a possible way to live

I too want to play with things
That disappear - Like the moment

Like homemade water revenue

That runs through our hands

Something warm to share

With each step more fragile

Then the last

My flaccid cock

Turning on a dime

As your flow stains the sheets

For no reason other than the illusion

Of rebirth

We garnish each other in art

Burning at the stake of desire

Where pain reaches euphoric heights 

Then dies on a dirt road

Of a lightning

Fast life